Whammy's School of Art
by tealeyedmoon69
Summary: In need of a good education? Too intelligent for regular schools? Then come to Whammy's School of Art, a place for only the elite.Where art is not created; it's born.


Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

_Whammy's School of Arts. Where art is not created; it's born._

1

5:09pm

"C'mon, Mail, hurry up!" a red-headed girl had turned around and was staring at the black Hummer that was parked on the curb. A teen looking exactly like her stepped out of the car, a black and white striped bag slung over his shoulder and a cigarette in his mouth. He walked slowly to the girl.

"Ugh, you really need to quit smoking," she said, her nose wrinkling at the smell. Even though she would never admit it, she thought her twin looked really cool smoking. If she wasn't related to him (and repulsed at the thought), she would think he was totally hot.

"I'll quit when global warming ends," he replied, voice a little distorted due to the cigarette in his mouth. "Oh, sorry," he said at his sister's glare. "Global _climate change_."

She rolled her eyes and walked into the building, not waiting for Mail to put out his cigarette. "I'd like to book a room," she told the concierge at the front of the hotel.

"How many people?" he asked as he checked her out.

"Just me and my idiot brother," she said, taking a tiny step back. _Ugh, he's old enough to be my father._

"Name?"

"Jeevas, Channary."

"One moment, please," he said. Mail came up to her.

"Thanks for waiting," he complained. His twin stuck out her tongue in response.

"Here you are," the concierge said. He handed them two cards for the room.

Mail took the key and started to examine it while his sister started to the elevator. He followed slowly behind her, unaware of the stares he was earning from the other people in the hotel. He lit another cigarette, entering the elevator right before it left.

"You're going to die of cancer," Channary complained.

Mail smirked as he blew out the smoke. "Until then, you're stuck with me."

The unpacked their things into their room, and Mail immediately started to order from room-service.

"Hey," Channary complained. "Are you trying to make us broke?"

"Relax, CJ," Mail said. He held up a platinum card. "Got it covered."

Channary sighed. "Do you think we'll ever go back?" she asked.

"I hope to god not," Mail said. "Do you want to?"

"Sometimes," CJ said. "But then I remember what happened and I never want to."

Mail smiled at her. "Then we'll make a promise. We'll never return to that house again."

CJ plopped down on the bed next to him, looking over the menu. "Now, what for dinner…"

9:15pm

"Maaaaaiiiiiil," CJ whined, pounding on the bathroom door. "I need to get a shower too, you know."

"One more minute," Mail said. He grabbed the towel back off the counter and wrapped it around his waist. He put his goggles around his neck, figuring that the steam would make it impossible to see. He opened the door to a slightly annoyed CJ.

"Why can't you take a shower tomorrow?" Mail asked. "It's not like we're doing anything."

"Mail Jeevas," Channary said, putting her hands on her hips and pouting. "We did not travel all the way from California to England only to do 'nothing'." She used air quotes around 'nothing'.

"I didn't think we traveled to England," Mail said. "I thought we ran away after we stole Dad's credit cards."

CJ looked around as though someone was standing in the room to catch them. "Shut up," she whispered harshly.

"Chill," Mail said. He held up his hands as he walked to his bed. "Alright. We'll do something tomorrow. I'm going to bed," he finished with a yawn, climbing into his bed as CJ disappeared into the bathroom.

10:35pm, next night

"Alright, where to next?" Channary asked Mail as they traveled around the streets in Winchester.

"Somewhere where people won't stare at me," he muttered, glaring at a group of girls who stood gawking at him.

Channary laughed. "Then I better find you a dark room." She grabbed his arm and dragged them down a side road. "C'mon."

Mail sighed but didn't object, pulling out a cigarette. He looked over at his twin as she glanced about the town. She might not've known it was still there, but Mail could see the bruise that had darkened her neck, one that she had gotten only a few days before from her father. His hand clenched at his side. No, he had to make sure they never went back to that place.

It turned out that Channary had club in mind. "CJ," Mail complained. "It's only eleven," he finished, which was too early for him to go into a club.

"Well, people are going in, aren't they?" CJ looked at him expectantly.

"No," Mail said stubbornly. "I'll come back when it's later." He liked to party in the middle of the night, not when it was just beginning.

Channary took Mail's goggles off his eyes, laughing. She ran into the club. "You're gonna have to catch me to get them back!" she yelled behind her.

People started to stare and point at him. Great. He walked quickly into the club.

The air was hazy with fog and smoke, not all of which from tobacco. _The English know how to party,_ he thought distractedly. The darkness made it really hard to see through, and Mail was half glad he didn't have his goggles; he would have been as blind as a bat. He pushed past a couple of girls who started to stare at us, trying to find Channary. The music pounded into him, and he could feel a headache coming on.

"Where the hell are you?" he yelled, knowing that no one could hear him over the music. He walked along the wall, having to step over many couples making out. "Disgusting." He found her near the restrooms in the back, a small smile spreading on her face. Mail took the opportunity to steal his goggle back from her. She looked up at him in surprise, the grin widening.

Channary latched onto his arm, pulling him over to her. "Look, Mail," she said, pointing at the wall. On it was a poster.

_In need of a good education? Too intelligent for anywhere else? Then come to Whammy's School of Art. Only the elite are chosen._

_Whammy's School of Art. Where art is not created; it's born. _

_Call ahead for tryout schedules. _

Mail glanced at Channary. "Isn't it perfect?" she said excitedly. "I know you could totally get in. You're like, a genius! You have to try out!"

"I don't know, CJ," Mail said doubtedly. "It doesn't seem like it's real."

Pulled out her cell and put the number in. "I know you can do it," she insisted, and Mail could only watch as she pressed enter and a green check flashed across the screen.

_**Contact Saved.**_

(A/N)

I decided to start a new fanfic, this time Death Note. Channary is an OC of mine, but I don't think she'll be appearing much anymore. There will be other OC's in the fic, because I'm going to need more students. I'll try not to make them that important, because Mello will be appearing shortly, and the fic will be centered mainly around the Whammy boys (and maybe Light…I don't know yet.) Be patient with my updates, because they tend to be really slow. I have a few other stories that I really need to get the plot going on. Chapter lengths will vary, but I'll really try to keep it around 1,000 words or so. Other than that, I have no idea where this is going. XD


End file.
